


Instinct

by Siria



Series: Not in Kansas [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-28
Updated: 2007-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that people lose interest in Rodney, or in what Radek likes to refer to as his 'big gay alien love affair', it's that other news stories come up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instinct

It's not that people lose interest in Rodney, or in what Radek likes to refer to as his 'big gay alien love affair', it's that other news stories come up—city elections, a failed coup in South America, a serial killer who terrorises every parent of a young boy in the Greater Metropolis area, Paris Hilton's latest underwear foible.

Within a week, the bloggers have moved on to something else; within two, they're only taking up a couple column inches in the middle of the newspaper; within four, Rodney's back to writing the news, not being in it, and that suits him just fine.

Of course, reporters have memories longer than elephants, and if the newsroom was the one place Rodney was safe while the whole debacle was still fresh in the public mind, it's also the one place where Rodney is reminded of it on a regular basis. Radek makes sly little references constantly; Ronon smirks. Teyla tries to be supportive, brings him tea and pats his shoulder gently when Rodney growls at her. Even Elizabeth is getting to be pretty unbearable about the whole thing. Not that she's said anything, of course—she's far too polite for that—but there's a speculative gleam in her eyes whenever she looks at him that says she's this close to shaking him down for details about Superman.

Rodney goes back to hunting down stories, same as always; the only difference is that these days, the Planet's insurance people won't let him go alone—dating a superhero apparently makes him a target—and Rodney won't let Teyla come with him anymore. Not because she wouldn't be able to take care of herself if something should happen—his balls still try to crawl up inside his body at the memory of what she did to the last guy who tried to mug her—but because there are only so many careful attempts to make him talk that he can take.

He mostly teams up with Sheppard now; not because he will admit that the man has more than a modicum of ability, but because, for some reason, Sheppard is the only person who never raises the subject of Superman with him. No pointed remarks, no subtle hints, no Cadman-like questions as to what, exactly, is hidden beneath that tight black uniform.

There are still plenty of smirks from Sheppard of course, and plenty of pointed comments; but they're more likely to be directed at Rodney's choice of t-shirt (_subtle, for an investigative journalist_), or the amount of coffee he consumes (_how does that much espresso not burn out your adrenal gland?_) or at the clerk of whichever city department they're investigating for corruption now (_say, you wouldn't mind if I just took a look at that file real quick, would you? Your boss would never know, I promise_).

They bicker and they bitch at one another, make real progress in any one of a number of cases, and share a by-line a surprising number of times, given that Rodney's never really been the kind of person to share credit before. Elizabeth just grins at them and says that if they keep this up, they're well on their way to becoming the next Woodward and Bernstein; Rodney rolls his eyes and Sheppard gives his best 'aw, shucks' grin, but really, Rodney thinks, later that day, when Sheppard brings him over coffee without asking, just as he likes it, they don't make a half-bad team.

Of course, it's at four the following morning that something clicks together in Rodney's head—three weeks of hints and clues from the both of them—from _him_, he realises now. Rodney sits bolt upright in bed, suddenly furious, and pokes John in the shoulder. "You," he hisses, when John wakes up; John's eyes go wide, then shuttered, and Rodney knows he is horribly, horribly right.


End file.
